


intimacy is the art of licking wounds

by rhllors



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: Death References, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhllors/pseuds/rhllors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice goes to Mexico and swims with the Sharks.</p>
<p>Obviously.</p>
<p>(In which Mark and John cope and Alice is always watching.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	intimacy is the art of licking wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/gifts).



Alice goes to Mexico and swims with the Sharks.

Obviously.

 

 

After he's taken care with Granny from hell, John calls in to see Mark North. He's not quite sure why he does it, and they haven't spoken properly since when he used to go over back when Alice was in Prison and Zoe--

He pretends it's because Mark met Jenny, that he would want to know what she's been doing, that his almost-friend would ejoy a game of Chess and some half decent wine. He pretends that they wont have a third person in the room, a third person that looms between them like a ghost caught in a machine, because although Zoe maybe ashes in the wind, and her killer dead in the ground, she will never leave either of them. They both know her well enough to draw her face with their eyes closed. They both loved her, fought with her, fucked her, lived with her. Maybe a little part of both of them died with her, too. Possibly.

(John finds it hard to tell these days. Killers will always kill, in the most horrendously inventive ways possible. His days are long and his nights are restless. Maybe a part of him died with Zoe. Maybe he was dying already.)

(Mark ached and mourned and raged until he didn't one day. It was like waking from coma, a fever. He even lost the rage that he'd clung to, to cling to her. Instead all he has now is a dull ache in his belly and weary eyes. Maybe he died with her. Maybe he died the day Alice Morgan ripped open Reed's chest cavity with a high-powered shot-gun.)

John reaches the doorstep, and side-steps out of the way of a delivery-man, passing over a particularly large anonymous brown box. He catches Mark's tired half-smile and raises his eyebrows, walking in without even asking for permission.

"That's a big bloody box, Noth." John says with a raised eyebrow, grabbing some mugs from the cupboard and putting the kettle on. He eyes the postmark. Cancún?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. The water boils quickly and he deposits some tea-bags into the mug, creating a dark brown brew that they both enjoy.

"I've got no bloody idea." Mark replies, grasping a box knife and slicing through the duct tape. "I haven't ordered anything. Most likely it's some books from my old office or--" _something Zoe left behind_ remains unsaid but clearly heard. Mark clears his throat over the awkward silence and riffles through the foam inside, pulling up two Sombrero's. 

They're tacky as hell. All garish colours and golden adjournments, made for tourists who don't know what to buy their relatives back home. It's almost funny, really.

"She go out." Mark intones. It's not a question, simply a statement. No need to supply who 'She' is. No need to wonder how she even found out where he lives.

"Would you have expected anything else?" John shoots back, a half smile on his lips, before crushing it into something more solemn. "This may require something stronger than Tea. Got any Tequila?"

 

 

The locals call her _Fantasma_ because of her pale skin and her habit of appearing all sorts of unexpected places.

They can see a Shark in the water, though, and keep her a very wide berth indeed.

 

 

John sits in his hospital bed, feeling restless and listless and everything that he always has been and always will be. The bullet wound in his leg wasn't even that bad (the nurses scoff, a bullet in the femoral artery that partially shattered the femur that wasn't _that bad_ would be a first) and he wants to leave. To go home, preferably. To Jenny, who's been fighting with the Ward Matron about visiting hours all week--Jenny much prefers the dark and really doesn't suit a 9 'til 5 life.

(Home to Mark as well. Mark who's almost set up shop in his shitty flat after the 'Sombrero Incident' a couple of months ago. Mark who talks to Jenny about the news, argues with John about the state of the Police and the state of the State. Mark who seems to make everything a little bit more normal. Less serial killer and more everyday. Mark who didn't really move in, as silently creep in when no one else noticed.) 

The reason why John got shot is long and complicated. To cut a long story short, it involved as serial killer (as most of his run-ins that leave him in the Hospital tend to do), ballerina and a very risky capture strategy. He got the results, as well as a leg full of lead. John's happy to make this concession.

"You know you're lucky to be alive?" says Mark, pulling at the blankets of his bed, straightening them. "That bullet could have gone anywhere. Back, neck, stomach. Head." His eyes linger on the three 'Get Well Soon' cards on the table next to Luther. One with a bunny rabbit with a thermometer in it's mouth, signed from the Unit (Schenk has a horrible sense of humour to say the least). Another is tasteful, with a scrawled noted from the recently re-promoted Rose Teller. The final one is from Jenny, a pastiche on a home-made card, with lashings of glitter and some pasta stuck on the front (she's got a dark sense of humour too, he's in good company). Mark's eyes return to John and see nothing but Cabin Fever.

"People are always telling me that." John replies shortly, pulling back at the blankets and stretching his un-plastered leg out, wiggling his toe. "It makes them sound like they regret I'm here in the first place."

Mark rolls his eyes. "That's obviously why I'm sat by your bedside, Luther. Because I wish you were dead?" the sarcasm is heavy and before John can retort, there's a knock at the door. A Nurse walks in, handling a small package with some curiosity.

"A gift, I'd assume." she says, handing John a small parcel and turning on her foot before stopping, and looking at him intently. "Very pretty girlfriend you've got there, Mister Luther, if you don't mind me saying."

There are numerous explanations. Maybe it's Jenny, sending a small token and someone getting confused along the way. Maybe it's Teller, and someone's making a joke. Maybe it's--

"Are you going to open it, or just stare at it?" Mark asks, looking at the wrapping paper that's glinting in the sunlight. "Because--" John tears at the packing, flicking off some elaborately curled ribbon and revealing a small plastic shark. It could be a child's toy, possibly bought from some water themed theme park.

_Come swim with the Sharks_.

"Fuck." John says, staring at it, rolling it over in his hands.

"Fuck." Mark agrees, his mind far away. 

 

 

The serial killer kills himself in custody. No one mourns, particularly.

There's one funny thing, though. He'd claimed that he was being haunted by the ballerina, the one who they used as bait. He told the prison psychiatrist that he saw her heterochromatic eyes in his nightmares.

No one believed him, obviously.

( _If anything happens to me, she is gonna come for you with the wrath of God. She’ll take whatever you’ve got left to love and make you regret the day you ever came across my path_.)

 

 

Alice watches them play Happy Families, but it feels much realer than any other time she's witnessed such a scene. Mark and John will be scarred by Zoe forever, Jenny will bare some wounds for much longer than she lets on but Alice can see that they're happy, in their own peculiar way.

She'll leave them in peace.

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, V! I had _alot_ of fun writing. Happy Holidays!


End file.
